If it isn't on YouTube, it might as well have never happened.

Ian sighed wanly. "I once had the means to be gaga over art–before I found myself in a country where the standard of beauty is toaster waffles shaped like cartoon characters.

Where's Amy?" Ian put in. "Will you please get her to call that Evan character? He rings here twenty times a day. He's either the most mule-headed person who ever lived, or he really likes your sister. She has to have mercy on him–on all of us!

Global warming doesn't care what's in your bank account." -Sinead Starling

The phone rang in the comm. center. Ian consulted the monitor. "It's Dan." He pressed a button. "Kabra here." Dan's voice crackled through the attic. "Don't say it like that," he complained. "Your name still gives me heartburn.

Yeah!" shouted Jonah, twirling the much larger Hamilton around the restaurant in a victory dance. The other diners watched in amazement. This wild display was hardly the public image of the too-cool-for-school Jonah Wizard. "What's the matter?" Hamilton challenged. "Haven't you ever seen a happy rapper before?

What does it feel like to get shot?" "I don't recommend it," said Nellie in a controlled voice. "Chocolate is definitely better.